


What A Bright Time

by WinterSky101



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Friendship, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSky101/pseuds/WinterSky101
Summary: Somehow (and Steve's honestly not quite sure how the kids got him to agree to this) Steve finds himself hosting a Christmas party.





	What A Bright Time

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate Christmas!
> 
> The title comes from "Jingle Bell Rock."

It starts, as many things in Steve's life seem to start these days, with a comment from Dustin.

It's the last full day of school before Christmas break, and Steve is having lunch in his car with a group of eighth graders. They've all been told in no uncertain terms what will happen if they get food on the seats, and to their credit, the kids are all being pretty careful. Dustin is in the passenger seat, although he twists around to face the back more often than not, and the other four kids - Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max - are squeezed in the back seat. Steve is in the driver's seat, listening to the kids talk and wondering when exactly he started eating lunch with a bunch of thirteen year olds. He figures it was probably about the same time when he realized that the only real friends he had around his age were his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. Teenage cliques stop seeming quite so important once you've fought off a few nightmarish monsters with a baseball bat.

"Hey guys," Dustin says through a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It's disgusting. Perhaps Steve should have thought twice before becoming friends with this bunch of nerds. "What are you guys doing for Christmas?"

The kids all babble over each other, Mike talking about some new Dungeons and Dragons thing he hopes to get while Lucas whines about how his parents are making him get a gift for his little sister and he has no idea what to do. Will puts in that he and Jonathan are going to put up a tree that weekend. Even Max looks a little excited, apparently at the prospect of a girls' day with her mother on Christmas Eve.

"What about you, Steve?" Dustin asks, and this is where it begins.

Or perhaps this is where it begins, with Steve's response. "I don't know, nothing special. I'll probably just watch Christmas movies on TV and eat a bunch of food."

The kids are all looking at Steve like he was speaking in tongues. Considering the other things that have happened in Hawkins, Steve supposes that's not impossible, but he's pretty sure he spoke in English.

"What?"

"You don't have plans for Christmas?" Dustin asks, sounding horrified.

Steve shrugs. "Nah, not really."

"What about your parents?" Will asks, his eyes wide.

"They're gone. You guys know that, you made me let you watch Star Wars at my house 'cause I have the biggest TV." And yeah, maybe he'd sort of enjoyed the movie too, but like hell he's going to admit it.

"But they're not going to be back for Christmas?" Lucas asks, sounding way more confused than Steve thinks the situation merits.

"No, they're not getting back until January."

Judging by the kids' reaction, you'd think Steve just told them that his parents are never coming back at all. "But they'll miss Christmas!" Will cries.

Steve shrugs, feeling a little self-conscious although he knows he has no reason to. So what if his parents aren't going to be around for Christmas? Tons of parents probably aren't around for Christmas. It's not weird. It's not a problem. It's been the way it is in the Harrington family for years. Steve's used to it by now.

And yet, the kids keep  _looking_  at him.

"What about Eleven?" Steve asks, knowing it's a surefire way to get Mike distracted. "This will be the first Christmas she celebrates, right?"

Predictably, Mike is distracted by the thought of Eleven, and the conversation turns to figuring out a way for her to celebrate Christmas properly, even though she's still supposed to be in hiding for another year. The kids stop giving Steve that horrible pitying look, and Steve finishes his lunch in peace.

In hindsight, he was stupid to think that was the end of it.

* * *

"Hey, Steve?"

Steve looks over at Dustin quickly, not taking his eyes off the road for too long. He's not sure what to expect, but he doesn't think he'll like it. Whenever Dustin uses that voice, it's always because he's trying to wheedle something out of Steve.

"Look, kid, I'm already driving you home cause you think it's too cold to bike. What else do you want?"

"Well," Dustin replies, dragging the word out, "we were talking about having a Christmas party."

"A Christmas party?" Steve repeats, wondering if he's in for a repeat of the conversation from lunch. "And wait, who's 'we'?"

"Mike and Lucas and Will and Max and I," Dustin replies. "We wanna have a party that El can go to."

Steve frowns, starting to be a little suspicious. "And why are you telling me this?"

"Well," Dustin wheedles, again lengthening the word to a ridiculous extent, "we can't have the party at my house or Mike's house or Lucas' house or Max's house, cause our parents can't know about El yet. And Will's house is still kind of a mess after everything. And the cabin where El lives is small and it's way out in the woods."

"And?" Steve asks, pretty sure he's guessed where Dustin is going with this.

"You've got a big house," Dustin says innocently. "And your parents won't be home until January, you said."

Steve's guess was correct. "You want to have a Christmas party at my house."

"Just a small one!" Dustin immediately cries. "Just us, you know? Our monster-hunting group."

"So you kids and El?" Steve asks.

"We should probably have adult supervision," Dustin suggests which is fair.

"So what, Chief Hopper too?"

"And maybe Mrs. Byers?" Dustin suggests. "And, um, maybe we could invite Nancy and Jonathan too? But only if you're okay with it!"

So a party with two adults, a bunch of middle schoolers, and Steve's ex and her new boyfriend. In any other situation, Steve's response would be a resounding no way, but he can't deny that Eleven deserves a nice Christmas, and this is for her.

"You little shits are gonna help set it up, right?"

Dustin's face lights up. Steve is such a sucker. "Yes, definitely!"

"And you won't make too much of a mess?"

"No, no way!"

"And you'll help clean up after?"

"I promise!"

Steve groans. "When do you want to do it, then?"

Dustin cheers way too loudly for such a small, enclosed space. "Can we do Saturday? Or Sunday, maybe, if Saturday is too early. I guess we could do it after Christmas, but that's kinda lame."

It's Thursday, so Saturday gives Steve about a day to prepare, and Sunday gives him about two. But it's not going to be a very big party, so...

"Saturday should work if we plan it tomorrow after school," Steve says. It's a half day tomorrow, so they'll have plenty of time.

"Yes!" Dustin cries. "So should we all go over to your house after school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," Steve replies. "Tell your little friends, okay? And tell everyone about the party. I'm not sending out invitations or anything."

"I will!" Dustin agrees immediately. "We'll take care of everything. You won't have to do a thing."

Steve highly doubts that.

"Thanks so much," Dustin tells him as Steve pulls into his driveway. "You're the best. You're super awesome."

"You already got what you want, kid, no need for more flattery," Steve replies. "Go on, your mom's probably waiting for you inside."

Dustin is still beaming as he gets out of the car, takes his bike out of the back, and goes up the door. Steve sees Mrs. Henderson in the window and awkwardly waves back when she waves at him. She was confused at first as to why Steve was suddenly spending so much time with her son, but Dustin spun a vaguely probable-sounding story about a mentorship program, and now Mrs. Henderson thinks Steve is wonderful for mentoring her little Dustin. Steve has a feeling that if she knew this "mentorship" involved fighting monsters, she'd be less enthusiastic, but at least this way Dustin has some adult supervision while he tries to fight off demodogs or whatever the hell else is in Hawkins.

He wonders how Dustin and the others will spin the whole party thing, but he figures it's not his problem. They'll come or they won't. It's not like he cares about this party that he didn't even want to throw

Steve gets home, parks his car in the garage, and goes into his house. It's clean - the maid came yesterday - and it is big, like the kids said, but it's also completely devoid of any Christmas decorations at all. There's not even a tree.

Whatever. It's not like Steve cares. In fact, he definitely doesn't.

Definitely.

"Goddamn it," Steve groans as he trudges upstairs to get the decorations out of the attic.

The kids had better appreciate this.

* * *

The kids all bike over to Steve's house the second school gets out. Steve gets there first by virtue of having a car, but he only gets a few minutes to himself before there's a swarm of children descending on him like flies.

"Is your house decorated?" Dustin demands, sounding very serious.

"Sort of," Steve replies, thinking of the half-hearted garlands he draped over the stair rail the day before.

"Sort of?" Lucas repeats. "What does 'sort of' decorated mean?"

"This, apparently," Max says, opening the door and stepping into the house.

"This is sad," Mike declares, looking around.

"Hey, I wasn't planning on having any decorations, so this is a step up," Steve retorts. He'll admit, it is a little sad. There are garlands on the stair rails, and a wreath hanging in the front window, but that's pretty much it. "Dustin said you guys would set it up anyway."

"There's not even a tree," Will says, sounding more disdainful than Steve's ever heard him before.

"Or lights," Max adds.

"No lights," Steve snaps. The kids all look at him with wide eyes. Steve takes a deep breath, tries to slow his suddenly-racing heart, and tries again. "No lights. I'm not putting up Christmas lights."

He had a few panic attacks the year before thanks to Christmas lights. He isn't about to put them up in his own house.

"Well, we do need a tree," Dustin says after a moment's pause. "And ornaments. And more decorations."

"There's a box of decorations in the living room," Steve says. The kids all rush towards it. "There's more in the attic," he calls. "One of you, come with me to go get them."

"I'll go," Will offers. The other kids continue to look through the box of decorations while Steve and Will head up to the attic.

"It's okay, about the lights," Will says after they're out of earshot from the others. "My mom doesn't like them either. Neither does Jonathan."

"Nancy doesn't like them either," Steve replies without thinking. Maybe, he reflects a moment later, he shouldn't have said that without asking Nancy if it was okay, but the words are already out, and it's not like Will is going to go around spreading it.

"I can explain about it to the others, if they ask," Will offers. "I don't know if Max knows about the lights and everything."

"It's okay," Steve replies, because like hell he's going to make Will relive the trauma of being in the Upside Down and communicating through the lights just because Steve doesn't like how they flicker sometimes. "It's my house, I get veto power on decorations."

Will shoots Steve a shy smile. "Thanks for doing the party, by the way. El is really excited."

"Hey, we all deserve something nice after the shitshow the past year has been." Steve ruffles Will's hair, ignoring Will's squeal of displeasure. "Come on, let's get the rest of the decorations out of the attic."

There are three more boxes of decorations in the attic. One seems to be full of lights, so Steve shoves it deep into the attic. There may be other decorations underneath the lights, but Steve's stomach is already turning at the sight of them, and he doesn't really want to paw through them for decorations that may or may not be underneath. The other two boxes plus the one in the living room will be more than enough.

Will carries one box and Steve carries the other. The other kids are noisily deciding where to put the decorations from the first box. "We need a tree," Dustin demands the second Steve steps into the living room.

Steve almost responds with something uncomplimentary, but it's true that any good Christmas party needs a tree. And Steve was telling the truth when he told Will he thought they all deserved something good.

"Then let's go get one."

The kids cheer.

* * *

Picking out a tree, unsurprisingly, takes forever. Steve would be willing to just grab the first one he sees, but the kids have higher standards. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a huge deal of overlap in their standards, meaning that there's a lot of argument over what qualities their tree has to have.

"It needs to be bigger than that," Mike says disdainfully.

"I think this one is fat enough," Lucas counters.

"It's not tall enough," Dustin dismisses.

"My Christmas trees are always about this tall," Will pipes up.

"But Steve's house has higher ceilings than yours," Max argues.

"Guys, this is the millionth tree we've looked at," Steve groans.

"Thirteenth," Dustin corrects.

"That is twelve more than we had to look at," Steve says. "Come on, guys, just pick a tree already."

"It needs to be the perfect tree," Mike protests. "This is El's first Christmas. Everything needs to be perfect."

"El's not gonna give a shit how the tree looks. She's gonna be happy to be hanging out with you."

Mike's expression is distinctly mulish. It's similar to the expression Nancy always has when she's being especially stubborn. If Mike is anything like his sister, Steve doesn't have a prayer.

"We need to find the perfect tree."

Steve shoots Will a look. Will is practical, and if Steve can get him on his side, the other kids will fall in line too. No one can say no to Will.

But Will is flushed and excited by the hunt for the tree, and unfortunately Steve can't say no to Will either (not that he's much better at saying no to any of the other kids), so it seems the hunt for the perfect tree is still ongoing. "Alright, but not too much longer. If we're still standing around here in half an hour, I'm gonna put my foot down."

Steve is pretty sure that all the kids know just as well as he does that that's a pretty empty threat. He wonders when exactly he became such a pushover.

The kids keep wandering around the lot, looking at all the trees. Every so often, one of them will call the others over, and even though every tree they've suggested looks fine to Steve, someone always comes up with a reason why it's not quite right. It's either not tall enough or not fat enough or too lopsided or too bare. One tree that the kids almost agree on ends up getting dismissed because the top looks "weird." Steve's taken to agreeing with every tree that gets suggested, cause if the kids can manage to come to an agreement he's sure as hell not going to be the dissenting voice that keeps them out here even longer.

"What about this one?" Max finally asks, holding out a tree.

"Looks great," Steve calls.

"You didn't even look at it."

"These trees all look great and you guys are just too picky."

"I think it looks good," Will says, looking at the tree Max selected. "Mike, what do you think?"

Mike slowly circles the tree as Max struggles to hold it upright. Steve sighs and takes the tree from her grasp, holding it steady.

"I think it's good," Mike says. "What do you guys think?"

"It's fat enough," Lucas says.

"And tall enough," Dustin adds.

Steve stares at the kids in shock. "Are you guys actually all agreeing on a tree?"

"Why?" Mike asks. "Do you not like it?"

"I love it," Steve says. "It's the most beautiful tree I've ever seen. Good job, Max. Let's go buy it and get out of here."

Steve pays for the tree as quickly as he can, not wanting to give the kids a chance to reject it. He ties it to the roof of his car while the kids get on their bikes and start heading back to his house. Steve sits behind the wheel for a moment, relishing the peace and quiet. He knows he won't get much of that today.

It's for the kids. It's for Eleven and Will. It's for Christmas.

Steve turns the key in the ignition and drives home, steeling himself for whatever the next decorating debacle ends up to be.

* * *

By the time the kids leave Steve's house that night, all stuffed full of the pizza they insisted he order for them, the entire first floor has been decorated within an inch of its life. Steve can't remember his house ever being this festive before. Whenever his mom did deign to decorate, it was always minimalist and tasteful, the color scheme strictly limited to white, silver, and gold, save for a few evergreen garlands. These kids, on the other hand, wouldn't know "minimalist and tasteful" if it bit them on the ass, and they were so offended by the lack of color in the decorations that Dustin actually made Steve drive him over to his house so they could pick up some decorations from there. To their credit, Steve does think this looks more fun than his mom's decorations usually do.

The kids have all been informed to tell everyone to come over at noon tomorrow, which gives Steve time to sleep in and get food ready. Apparently, Eleven loves Eggos, so Mike made him promise to get some. Steve is considering making fresh waffles too, if he can find the waffle iron. If Eleven likes Eggos, Steve's pretty sure fresh waffles will blow her mind.

Steve falls asleep the second he falls into bed. He wakes up at ten the next morning. There's a message on his answering machine from Dustin, telling him that everyone knows about the party and is planning to be there at noon. He showers, throws on some clean clothes, and heads out for his last-minute shopping trip.

He intends to buy Eggos, hot cocoa mix, and maybe some ice cream or something. But as he's walking around the store, he sees the chips that Will likes, and the cookies that Nancy loves, and the crackers that Dustin always eats in a heartbeat. Before he knows it, his cart is half full, and he still hasn't picked up the three things he actually came to get.

He grabs the Eggos, hot cocoa mix, and ice cream, and then he grabs some ingredients for fresh waffles, since he's pretty sure he knows where the waffle iron is. By the time Steve leaves the store, it's eleven thirty, and he still has to get home and get food ready. He just hopes no one's expecting anything fancy.

Max is already waiting outside his house when Steve gets home. "You're early," he calls.

Max shrugs. "Billy was being a jerk at home, so I left."

Steve knows better than to say anything that Max could construe as pitying. "Okay," he says. "Since you're here, come help me with these groceries."

Max groans, but she trudges over to the car and grabs a bag of groceries. Steve grabs the other two and leads her into the house.

"Just dump the stuff in the kitchen," he calls over his shoulder. "Then you can help me get food ready."

Max groans again, louder and more dramatic this time.

"Hey, you show up to a party early, you help set it up. Those are the rules."

"Says who?"

"Says me, and I'm the one hosting this party, so what I say goes."

Max groans a few more times as they put away the groceries, but Steve ignores her and puts her to work dumping crackers and chips in bowls while he digs around for the waffle iron. "What are you doing?" Max asks as he finally pulls it out of the cabinet.

"I'm making fresh waffles," Steve replies. "Eggos are shit."

"You know how to make fresh waffles?" Max asks, sounding insultingly dubious.

"Watch me."

Steve's cooking the first batch of waffles when the doorbell rings. "Can you get it?" he asks Max.

"Sure," Max replies. She disappears into the hall, and when she comes back, it's with Dustin and Lucas.

"Are those fresh waffles?" Lucas demands.

"You know it," Steve replies, setting the first batch on a plate and pouring more batter into the waffle iron. "If Eleven likes Eggos, I think she'll like these."

"You got crackers!" Dustin cries happily, descending on the bowl.

"Hey, leave some for everyone else!" Steve calls. There's another box in the cabinet, so there are more if Dustin inhales the whole bowl, but it's the principle of the thing.

"The Byers will be here soon," Dustin reports, mouth full of crackers. Jesus, Steve needs to train him out of that. "And the Wheelers. Not sure about Hopper and Eleven, but they'll probably be here soon too."

"Well, you guys are early," Steve replies. It's still ten of noon. "Put the bowls of food out in the living room."

"Apparently, people who show up early need to help out," Max says, making a face.

"Hey, Dustin promised you guys would help out." Steve gestures at the bowls. "Help out."

The kids all grumble, but they do as they're told.

* * *

By a little past noon, everyone's shown up, and the party is in full swing. Or, at least, as much as a party consisting of a bunch of eighth graders, two adults, and three high schoolers with a tumultuous romantic history can be in full swing.

Steve is doing his best to avoid Nancy and Jonathan. It's working well enough that he thinks they might be avoiding him too. He's maybe a little bitter about that. He's the one who got the short end of this stick. He's the one who has a right to avoid them. They don't have the right to avoid him. And if they wanted to, then why did they come to a party at  _his_  house?

It's not a path Steve wants to go down at a Christmas party, though, so he goes over to the kids. Dustin is explaining something to Eleven with expansive gestures. In fact, they're so expansive that one of his hands almost smacks Max in the face.

"What are you little shits talking about?" Steve asks, perching on the arm of the couch.

"I'm telling El about Santa," Dustin says. "She's never heard of him before."

Steve almost asks if they're telling Eleven that Santa isn't real, then he stops himself. Do these kids know that Santa isn't real? Steve figured it out early, when he found his father eating the cookies they'd put out. He's pretty sure thirteen year olds should know better, but he doesn't want to be that asshole that tells them if they don't know.

And honestly, given all the crazy shit they've seen in the past year, maybe Steve shouldn't be so quick to disbelieve.

"Hey, Eleven," he says, "have you ever had fresh waffles?"

Eleven frowns at him. "Eggos?" she asks.

"No,  _fresh_  waffles," Steve corrects. "Eggos are frozen. I made fresh waffles from scratch."

"From scratch," Eleven repeats slowly.

"That means he made them by himself, with fresh ingredients and everything," Mike explains.

"Wanna try one? They're even better than Eggos."

Eleven looks very dubious. "Better than Eggos?"

"Much better," Steve replies.

Eleven accepts a plate with a fat waffle on it. Steve's about to drizzle it with syrup when Eleven picks it up with her bare hands and takes a bite. Under her curly hair, her eyes go wide.

"Do you like it?" Steve asks.

Eleven nods, taking another bite, and then another one.

Steve grins. "It's even better with butter and syrup," he says, picking up another waffle and preparing it. He sets it on a plate in front of Eleven, along with a fork. When she finishes the first waffle, she digs into that one.

"What do you think?" Steve asks.

"Good," Eleven says, her mouth full of waffle. Dustin must be rubbing off on her.

"Better than Eggos?" Steve asks.

Eleven looks contemplative for a moment, then finally nods. "Better than Eggos."

"In your  _face_!" Dustin yells at Mike. "I told you she'd like Steve's waffles better!"

"Ugh,  _fine_ ," Mike huffs.

"Eat as many of the waffles as you want," Steve tells Eleven. "I made them for you."

He's pretty sure Eleven isn't going to need any more convincing than that. She finishes her waffle and grabs another one. Perhaps letting her eat this much sugar isn't a good thing, but what the hell, it's Christmas.

"Steve?" a quiet voice asks, and Steve's pretty sure his heart stops for a moment. He turns around to see Nancy standing behind him, looking tentative.

"Hey, Nance," he says, trying to sound like someone who isn't probably having a heart attack. "Something up?"

"Can we talk for a moment?" Nancy asks, her gaze flickering to the kids.

Steve thinks maybe he preferred it when they were all avoiding each other.

"Sure," he says, because he's a masochist when it comes to Nancy. He lets her lead him over to an abandoned corner of the room, hyperaware that the kids are still keeping an eye on them. He tries his best to ignore everyone else in the room and focus only on Nancy.

"What's up?"

"I just-" Nancy shifts her weight a little in the way she always does when she doesn't know what to say. "Thanks for the party. It's… great."

"The kids helped," Steve replies. "They did most of the decorating. Apparently I'm crap at it."

"It looks nice," Nancy offers. She shifts her weight again. "Look, Steve, I just wanted to… apologize. I never really did before, but I think I should."

"Apologize for what?" Steve asks warily.

"A lot of things," Nancy replies. "You said you were a shitty boyfriend, but you weren't. I was a shitty girlfriend. You were just trying to do what you thought was best. You were trying to help. I should have been nicer. I should have been better."

"Nance-"

"I'm sorry about the party too," Nancy adds quickly, like she's worried she'll lose her nerve if she's interrupted. "I shouldn't have said the things I said. You're not bullshit. I'm sorry."

Nancy calling him bullshit wasn't the part that hurt the most, but Steve doesn't want to press her again on whether or not she loves him. That ended badly enough the first time. He's a masochist when it comes to Nancy, but he's not  _that_  much of a masochist.

"It's okay, Nance," he says. "You don't need to apologize. I'm over it."

"I'm still sorry," Nancy replies.

Honestly, Steve just wants to get past all that and pretend it never happened. "It's okay," he says again. "We weren't the best match for each other. It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's just the way things turned out."

"Okay," Nancy finally says. "But can we still be friends?"

The word feels a little like a knife in Steve's gut, but, as previously established, he's a masochist when it comes to Nancy. "Friends," he agrees.

Nancy smiles a little. It's small and shy and not like the smiles she used to give him when they first started dating, before Will disappeared and Barb died and their world got turned upside down (no pun intended), but at least it's something.

It takes more effort than Steve would have expected, but he smiles back.

* * *

Steve is chatting with Joyce, a development he definitely didn't see coming but finds shockingly pleasant, when Dustin starts clinking his glass with a fork.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he yells. "Can I have everyone's attention?"

"I think you have it," Steve calls back. "What do you want?"

"It is time," Dustin says dramatically, "to sing Christmas carols."

"Oh  _no_ ," Steve groans. He can see a similar expression of horror on Jonathan's face, but everyone else seems excited. Even Hopper looks resigned to the idea, thanks to the delight on Eleven's face.

"We're gonna start with a simple one," Dustin says. Then, at the top of his lungs, he begins to bellow (sing is not the right word in this situation), "JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE ALL THE WAY!"

Steve refuses to sing along on principle, but soon everyone else is singing. Eleven figures out the words pretty quickly, and even Jonathan is singing, probably because Will is so thrilled by the caroling. Steve, however, is determined to hold out.

Jingle Bells gives way to Deck the Halls, which gives way to Frosty the Snowman, which gives way to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Steve still refuses to sing, instead busying himself with tidying up a bit. The kids are fun, but they make a huge mess.

"Why aren't you singing?" Max hisses at him when Steve leans over her to grab an empty bowl halfway through Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.

"I'm cleaning," he retorts.

Max scowls. "You can sing and clean at the same time."

"You're not singing either."

"Cause I'm trying to get  _you_  to sing."

"Lay off," Steve says, grabbing the bowl and heading to the kitchen to put it away. He can see the petulant turn of Max's mouth, but she starts singing again, extra loudly, and contents herself with merely glaring at him. Steve ignores her and continues cleaning up.

Dustin leads the group through a frankly ridiculous amount of Christmas songs before he finally lets them stop. By that time, the Wheelers have to go home for some family thing, the Byers are heading out to get a tree, and Hopper wants to bring Eleven home sooner rather than later. Lucas bikes off after that, leaving just Steve, Dustin, and Max.

"I should probably go home," Max says. "My mom wanted to plan our day tomorrow."

"If you need any help with Billy, just call," Steve says. "I'll bring over the bat."

"Just don't get your ass kicked again," Dustin says. When Steve gives him a dirty look, he quickly adds, "You were great! He kicked your ass, but you were great!"

"I'll be fine," Max says. She darts forward suddenly, grabbing Steve in a quick hug. Steve is still a little stunned by it when Max heads to the door, only shaking off his stupor when she opens it and lets a wave of cold air inside.

"Oh, and Dustin?" she calls. "Steve didn't sing any of the carols."

"Traitor!" Steve yells, but Max has already closed the door.

"You didn't sing?" Dustin demands. "Not at all?"

"I don't sing," Steve replies. "Come on, let's get the last of this stuff cleaned up."

"I can't believe you didn't sing," Dustin groans, picking up a few empty plates and carrying them into the kitchen. "How could you do this to me?"

"I don't sing," Steve repeats.

Dustin shakes his head, looking very disappointed. "You're gonna drive me home, just cause of that."

"You're a spoiled brat," Steve says, even though they both know he's going to do it.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Dustin's got his bike in the trunk and is sitting happily in the passenger seat while Steve starts the car. "It's not really that cold," Steve says. "You could bike yourself."

"You didn't sing my carols," Dustin says, sounding very offended. "You owe me."

Steve rolls his eyes, but sometimes it's best to just go along with what the kids say and not fight it too much. Anyway, it's not like he really has anything better to do.

They're almost to Dustin's house when Dustin clears his throat. "So, um, Steve…"

"What did you do?" Steve demands immediately.

"Nothing!" Dustin cries. "I just told my mom that your parents weren't gonna be home for Christmas. And then she said that I should invite you to celebrate Christmas at our house. You know, if you want to. It'll just be the two of us. And Tews. So if you want someplace to celebrate…" They're just pulling up to Dustin's house, and Dustin does jazz hands in its direction. "You can celebrate here."

Steve doesn't mind celebrating Christmas alone, but Dustin looks hopeful, like he really wants Steve to agree. He's also pretty sure that the second Mrs. Henderson sees him, she's going to keep inviting him until he agrees, so he might as well just agree to it now and spare her the trouble.

"Sure."

Dustin's whole face lights up. "Awesome!" he cries. "So you can come over whenever you want. We normally do presents in the morning, then a big meal in the afternoon, then hot cocoa and a movie at night. Come on inside, you can talk to my mom about the specifics."

Before Steve can protest, Dustin's already gotten out of the car and gone around to Steve's door, dragging him out. To be fair, Steve doesn't really put up more than a tiny bit of token resistance. He's already agreed to come over on Christmas, so there's not really a point to it anymore.

Mrs. Henderson is beaming when Dustin drags Steve to the door, her smile just as cheery as her son's, and Steve takes a moment to reflect that yes, this is really happening. This time last year, if you'd told him he would be planning to celebrate Christmas with Dustin Henderson after having a party with him and a bunch of his friends, he would have thought you were crazy. Two years before, he probably would have laughed in your face.

But now, he thinks it sounds pretty damn good, and he wouldn't give it up for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr is [here](http://winterskywrites.tumblr.com/), if you're interested.


End file.
